Once Upon A Time in Boston
by stormyskies73
Summary: *Sequel to Happily Ever After in Maine* I've just been reunited with my Debbie Downer sister (read: forced to cohabitate with her) and my mom's met someone Cathy can't stand. It's going to be a long week...
1. Prologue

**I was going to wait til more people voted for a sequel, but I had this planned out in my head, so it happened a lot sooner than I intended. I apologise if you're annoyed by this. And besides, the vote I got was 'too many loose ends', so I figured this tied things off. So Beck Pierce-McIntyre returns. If you'd rather I hadn't written this, maybe you could pretend it doesn't exist?**

**Disclaimer: For this I refer you to the first installment. If I didn't own M*A*S*H yesterday, it's unlikely I'll own it today.**

* * *

Once upon a time in Boston there were two young girls. They were sisters and close friends, but they were completely different. One liked to have control over her world, the other lived for chaos. One hated change, the other thrived on it. One was always immaculate, the other perpetually dishevelled. Yet, in spite of their differences, they almost never argued. Not seriously.

Until, that is, their father received a letter from their mother's worst enemy and that letter fell into the hands of the crazy one, who read it and realised that Something Had To Be Done. And so she decided to play matchmaker for both writer and recipient. That changed everything.

The two sisters became divided, and by far more than just geography.

The youngest lived happily ever after in Crabapple Cove, Maine, but what about the sister and mother she left behind? And what if the two warring siblings were forced together again?

I, Rebecca 'Beck' Pierce-McIntyre, am about to begin the longest week of my life...


	2. My Fate is Sealed

**Hi!**** So here's the next chapter! Yay! Hopefully this'll be OK.**

**Disclaimer: Do I really need to go through all this again?**

* * *

"No. I absolutely refuse! I am an adult now. I am perfectly capable of staying home alone."

"Beck, we've been over this twice already." Dad was getting evermore exasperated. "We can't leave a fourteen the are old girl on her own for a week."

"Sure you can! The Bennets can check in on me every couple days, and I won't do anything crazy whilst you're gone!"

"The Bennets hate us." Hawkeye replied somewhat skeptically.

"Xanthe doesn't."

"So we're supposed to trust another spectacularly insane fourteen-year-old to make sure you don't burn the house down?"

Sensing I was not only outnumbered but failing miserably in my argument, I changed tack. "It's just, it'll be really awkward. Cathy hates me, and last time I saw her Mom wasn't in too great a mood either. And I have to live with them for a week? Bad plan." That was actually pretty hypocritical of me. I, Beck Pierce-McIntyre am the Empress of Bad Plans. But I wasn't going to _say_ that.

"Maybe she has a point there, Trap. We can't make her stay in Boston whilst we're gone, and Louise and I aren't really on the best of terms."

"So what do you suggest?" By this point, I was getting a really bad feeling. When adults suddenly switch from arguing against you to being in total agreement, it's usually a sign you're actually losing.

"I'll see if BJ'll put her up for the week. I'm sure Erin will appreciate the company."

_Oh God, no._ Fact is, I don't like the Hunnicut clan all that much. Don't get me wrong, they're lovely people and all, but that's just it. They're lovely people. It's suffocating. Besides, Peg _twitters _(like, actually_ twitters_) rather than speaking like a normal person, and Erin's so clingy. Whenever I see her (which, thankfully, is only once a year) she follows me (and Cathy if she's around, which, up until recently, she usually was) like a lost puppy. And BJ insists on calling me Becca. No-one can be bothered to correct him.

No way was I spending the week with them.

"So...I hear Boston's lovely this time of year."

* * *

**Just to clarify, I have nothing against BJ ('cept for the fact he replaced Trapper), Peg or Erin. I just don't think they'd all get along. My headcanon is that Trap & Beej get on sort of OK-ish (but not perfectly), Louise is convinced Peg has gone through the same issues she has (but she's wrong), and Cathy and Beck really don't like Erin but she thinks they do. So yeah.**


	3. I'm BackYay?

**And a third chapter in the space of 2 days! I have a lot of free time right now, cos it's the summer holidays (yay!) so I'll probably be writing a lot more. Probably.**

**Disclaimer: See last chapter.**

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I insisted on being dropped off at the end of the street rather than closer to the place I once called home.. No sense in making an awkward situation even more awkward. Standing on the doorstep, trying to work up the courage to knock, brought back memories for me. Memories of a thirteen-year-old girl with a badly-planned plan and no-one to catch her if she fell. Cathy should have been there to catch me. But she wasn't. I forgave her for betraying my trust, but I doubt she forgave me for doing what I did.

"Beck! You made it OK." Mom ushered me inside. Despite what I've repeatedly told her, she doesn't believe my story and blames Hawkeye for everything that's happened. She kind of sees me as the prodigal daughter who left home but is _definitely coming back._ I don't really want to, though, and I've tried and tried to make that clear as tactfully as I can. Honestly, I thought my disappearing act would get the message across.

"Of course I did." I hadn't had to go that far, really.

"Cathy!" _And so it begins._ "Your sister's here!"

_"What?"_ I heard footsteps, and then saw the person I sort of dreaded seeing appear at the top of the stairs. "Why is _she _here?"

"Dad and Hawkeye had this medical symposium thingy somewhere in Canada." I'm not good with details. It infuriates most people, cos my answers are always either too in-depth or too vague. It's the same with my plans. "I wasn't allowed to go, and apparently I can't stay home alone without some sort of incident. So, here I am!" I tried to sound upbeat, but I wasn't.

"Why did no-one tell me about this?" She vanished back into her room and slammed the door.

"She'll come around." Mom tried to reassure me. "Just give her time."

"She's had six months. I doubt she'll be coming around any time soon." I took my bag and made my way to my own room.

As I passed the closed door to Cathy's, however, I stopped. Because, behind it, she was crying.


	4. Crying

**Hi again! It's me! **

**Disclaimer: See last chapter.**

* * *

"Cathy?" I pushed open the door. My sister's face was buried in her pillow.

"Leave me alone!"

"No." I sat down on the edge of the bed. I didn't ask why she was crying, because I knew she wouldn't answer. She'd tell me in her own time.

"Why not? I don't want you to stay here. _You_ don't want you to stay here!" she snapped.

"Actually, my presence is completely voluntary." She looked up at me with red-rimmed eyes. "I could be in California right now with people who _don't_ want me dead. I chose you being hostile over the Hunnicutts being nice!" She laughs a little at this.

"Becky, you and I both know you'd rather gouge your eyes out than spend a week with them being nice."

"Which is good! It means I chose you over gouging my eyes out!"

"I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel about that." The two of us fell silent after that, but that was okay, because it felt like she and I were at least on speaking terms again.

"It's so weird, Becky." she said, finally. "Here we are, talking like we used to, when everything is so _not_ like it used to be. I mean, last time we really spoke you and Dad still lived here and our parents were still together, even if they did argue all the time, and now everything's different! Dad's homosexual, you live in a whole different state, and Mom's with Pete-"

"Who?" _That _was news to me. "Why didn't I know about this? I mean, you know about Hawkeye, so why don't I know about Pete?"

"I dunno." Cathy shrugged. "But that's not important. The main thing is, I just feel like everything's got messed up, and I can't talk to anyone about it, and it's tearing me up, and-

"You can talk to me about it."

"But I can't! Part of me wants to forgive you, but if it wasn't for you none of this woulda happened! And if it had I wouldn't know about it."

"Technically, you _are_ talking to me about it."

"Oh, yeah..."

"And I'm sorry for messing things up, but I really don't think it was my fault."

"Becky-"

"Think about it. This whole thing began with the war, and _that_ was nothing to do with me."

"Is this your way of trying to patch things up?" She still didn't look like she wanted me around, but at least she was speaking to me.

"Yep."

"Is it possible that you've actually gotten weirder since I last saw you?"


	5. The Problem With Pete

**Sorry for the short chapter!**

**Disclaimer: This is a disclaimer.**

Turns out the mysterious 'Pete' was coming for dinner that night. I was pretty pleased -it's about time I met the guy- but Cathy looked kinda annoyed.

"You OK?" I asked.

"Not really. I don't like that guy."

"Why not?"

"Lots of reasons. Most of them boil down to this: he's completely insufferable."

"Garden-variety-insufferable or Hunnicutt-insufferable?"

"Off-the-scale-insufferable. At least the Hunnicutts are genuinely nice. I think Pete just _acts _like he likes me cos he considers me some sorta charity case."

"Charity case?"

"I'm pretty sure he sees me as this poor, sweet little girl who needs a proper father figure."

"You already have a father figure. You don't need him."

"I know. But Mom likes him so I'm trying not to say anything. She deserves to be happy, Becky."

"So do you."

"I know. I don't know how much more I can take."

"He can't be _that _bad."

"You'll see, sis. He doesn't like you at all."

"But he's never met me!"

"I think he suspects something."


	6. Interrogations and Revelations

**Hey!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did, I would probably have a lot more money.**

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"So you must be Rebecca." The man across from me at the dinner table said.

"Beck." I corrected him. Anyone who gets my name wrong goes down in my estimation very quickly. Especially if they've been told it many, many times, like certain Californian draftees I could mention. I'm not even that keen on Cathy calling me Becky, but I guess old habits die hard.

"I've heard so much abut you." _Clearly not enough to know my preferred name._ Something about Pete's tone put me off.

"I wish I could say the same about you." I forced a laugh and hoped it sounded genuine.

"So, are you going to be living here from now on?" This, I realized, was a man who did not like children, or at least didn't know how to act around them. Rather than acting interested in me as Beck McIntyre (although I have long since stopped referring to myself as that, at least in the privacy of my notebooks and around my family), the fourteen-year-old with a personality of her own, he acted interested in me like I was some sort of test subject or freak of nature.

"Nope." _Thank God._ "Just for the week." _Is this how people feel when they're being interrogated?_

"John and Dr Pierce are in Canada." Mom interjected, trying to enter the conversation. Cathy just looked like she was in pain.

Pete looked me in the eyes and I tried not to squirm. "Beck," he lowered his voice, as if he was about to disclose the secrets of the universe, "just between you and me, don't you find your current living arrangements a little odd?"

"What do you mean, odd?" I tried my best to look clueless.

"Nothing, nothing."

"Because if you're insinuating anything about the relationship between my dad and Hawkeye, you're mistaken." I delivered the carefully-practiced lie and resisted the temptation to stare Creepy Pete down. "We needed a place to live and he offered to put us up for a while. I think that if there was anything more to it than that I'd know about it, wouldn't you?" Cathy looked at me from across the table and we exchanged glances. _Yep, he suspects all right. Crap._ I stared at my plate, but somehow I'd managed to lose my appetite.

* * *

"So what do you think?" Cathy asked, once The Thing had vacated the premises. For three hours I'd endured him patronizing me, interrogating me, sliming around my mother, and generally being intolerable.

"Is it too late for me to spend the week in Mill Valley?"

She laughed. "I told you so."

"He thought I was _twelve years old._"

"Well, you are kinda small."

"Shut up!" I shoved her, and she fell against my bedroom wall, giggling. We were sat on the floor, hoping Mom wouldn't hear us.

"It's true!" Then she got serious. "Becky, I'm honestly getting worried here. You wanna know what he said to Mom just before he left? He said, and I quote, "I really don't think Rebecca's a good influence on our Catherine, with her upbringing and all."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means he suspects. I always thought that, but now I know for sure. If word gets out about the truth..." She doesn't need to finish that sentence.

"So what do we do?"

"What we need, Becky," my sister said with a glint in her eye I'd never seen before, "is a plan."

"Awesome."


	7. The Plan, Mark 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

* * *

_THE PROBLEM_

Cathy wrote the words at the top of the first empty page in my notebook.

"Pete knows too much and he's annoying."

_Pete Tyler knows too much about matters that, if revealed, could have serious repercussions on innocent people. Additionally, he is overly-patronising._

"Why can't we just write it like I said it?" I protested, looking over what my sister had written.

"I'm trying to be professional."

"It doesn't need to look nice."

"Yes it does."

"I give up. Now what?"

* * *

_POSSIBLE SOLUTIONS_

"Any suggestions?" she asked.

"Well, I'm not planning on coming back if that's here. You're welcome to go with me."

"Becky, we can't both move away and leave Mom. Someone has to stay behind. I mean, she is our mother. And he'll still know. As long as he's in any of our lives, he'll still be digging."

"Just write it down anyway."

_1. Leave the state._ Then, underneath it, she wrote:

_This idea has been rejected due to the lack of compassion shown, and would do nothing to eradicate the main problem._

"Cathy, stop dressing it up! Your turn."

_2. Influence the situation to ensure that the relationship between P.T and Louise Dixon (formerly Louise McIntyre) is terminated._

"I like it. How are we gonna do that?' I added my own note to the end of the sentence. **Preferably in spectacular fashion.**

She looks at me sheepishly.

"That's kind of your department, Becky, isn't it?"

"Cathy, I'm a mmatchmaker. I have no idea how to 'terminate the relationship." I _really _didn't see the point ofwriting our plan down all fancy-like.

"You've done it before!"

"That was a side effect.'

"We're screwed, aren't we?"

"Probably."

* * *

_POTENTIAL HAZARDS_

_1. Neither of us know how to proceed with the Plan _**mark 2 (since the title 'the Plan' is already taken).**

_2. Once__the Plan mark 2 is complete, a replacement must be found for P.T or a way found for L.D to move on very quickly in order to minimize emotional casualties._

_Other than this, we should be fine._

* * *

**I am now accepting suggestions for 'get rid of Pete strategies'. I know why my first one is, but I'mma need more!**


	8. Day One: Let's Play Pretend!

**And so their campaign begins!**

**Disclaimer: I can't even be bothered to put a disclaimer any more...**

* * *

We did the only thing we could think of: ignore his very existence. Cathy figured that, if we acted like we couldn't see or hear him, he'd clear off.

And so, when Mom told us she'd invited Petebog back into our (their) home, we responded in much the same was I had upon arrival.

"Who?"

"Cathy, Beck, please don't act up."

_We're not children!_ "We're not acting up." Cathy replied innocently.

"We genuinely don't know who he is." I added.

"Is this about him questioning you yesterday?"

"Questioning me? Who the hell is this guy?"

"Beck..." she tailed off, seemingly lost for words.

"I'm telling you, Mom, we've never heard of this Pete guy in our lives." Cathy tried her hardest not to smile as she said it.

* * *

"So, Cathy," Petebog said, "What's it like having your sister around again?" She blanked him and carried on eating.

"Cathy?" No reply. "Beck, could you get Cathy for me?" I refused to acknowledge that he'd said anything. "Louise, dear, are they alright?"

"They're playing some sort of game where they're pretending you don't exist."

"Mom, who are you talking to?"

"Cathy, you know perfectly well who I'm talking to."

"Oh, _right_. _Pete!" _Cathy nodded indulgently, then looked at me and grinned.

"You should probably talk to someone." I suggest with mock-sincerity.

"Beck, I do not need to talk to anyone."

"Because I think we still have Dr Freedman's phone number somewhere-"

"Just stop it, alright?" Cathy and I shut up and carried on eating.

"Why are they doing this, exactly?" The Invisible Man asked.

"It's beyond me."

"Yesterday I got the distinct impression Beck doesn't like me. And I suppose it must be hard on Cathy, what with everything that's happened." Whilst this was taking place, Cathy and I kept shooting glances at each other as though we honestly thought Mom was having a conversation with thin air.

"Well, the divorce was always going to have an effect on them, wasn't it?" She directs the question at us.

"Nope. I'm fine." I shrug, feigning confusion.

"It's weird, but I guess I'm alright now?" Cathy said this with a slight inflection at the end of the sentence, as though it was another question. We were determined not to drop the act for a moment.

"And you _did _put a lot of pressure on Beck yesterday, you have to admit. People will always assume that about John and Pierce now, you know, so she's always going to be asked that question. By bringing it up now you must have hit a nerve."

"I was just worried for her, that's all." I resisted the urge to yell _'You don't _have _to be worried for me! I'm _fine!'.

"I'm sorry." I ignored him. With me, there are some people who just don't _get _second chances_. _Petebog is one of them. Cathy does the same.

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**Again, suggestions are totally welcome!**


	9. Day Two: Oops!

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.**

* * *

Whilst the blanking tactic had been fun, it had one significant drawback: Moim and Petebog could always just ignore the ignoring, and since Cathy and I were pretending Petebog didn't exist, we couldn't draw attention to the fact that we were ignoring him. So we had to change our plan.

"I say we declare war." Cathy announced.

"Isn't that what we were doing anyway?" I asked, confused.

"Nope. That was just nonverbal arguing. Things may well get messy now."

"What's the plan?" I smiled. Messy is _fun_.

* * *

"Do you want some coffee?" I asked Pete, smiling innocently.

" That would be lovely, Beck." Both he and Mom had been visibly relieved to see that our campaign had, apparently, come to an end. _Enjoy it while it lasts..._ I walked into the kitchen, trying to look like there was nothing underhand taking place. I made the drink, but with two barely-noticeable changes to the recipe.

"Here you go!" He took a sip...and promptly spat it out, inadvertantly spilling the liquid into his lap at the same time. Cathy bit her lip, trying not to laugh. That was the best spit-take either of us had ever seen.

"Are you alright?" I hoped I sounded suitably concerned.

"What the hell _is_ this?

"Coffee."

"What's in it?" I opened my mouth to respond, but Mom shot me the 'don't' look.

* * *

"What did you do to the coffee, Beck?" She asked when our victim was gone.

"Nothing! All I put in it was coffee beans, milk, water and sugar."

"Did you use the milk bottle at the back of the refrigerator?"

"Yeah, why?" I tried to look puzzled.

"Oh, Beck. That bottle was off! I thought I told you!" She had. I just chose to forget.

"I forgot. Oops." I paused in mock-consideration. "And I think I _might _have got the sugar and salt mixed up_. _My bad." At this point, Cathy started laughing.

"Did you two plan this?"

"Nope." we chorused.

"You did, didn't you?"

"We were just trying to help." I said, defensively. Cathy was still giggling helplessly.

"How is sabotaging a relationship helpful?"

"We don't like him."

"He treats me like I'm a little girl and he hates Beck." Cathy added.

"And he knows too much!"

"I'll talk to him about all that. Just...promise me you'll stop spiking his coffee." The two of us agreed.

After all, we weren't going to repeat ourselves, were we?


	10. A Dubious Triumph and a Crisis of Self

**Hey! I have an update! And thanks to MASHlover23 for the feedback and advice! Hopefully it'll pay off! **

**Disclaimer: We've already been through this!**

* * *

It took two more days, one count of food-sabotage (let's just say the results weren't pretty), seventeen death-glares and an 'accidental' soaking with water before Petebog broke.

"I can't do this anymore, Louise, I'm sorry."

"Pete-"

"I really hoped this would work out, but it's hopeless. Your daughters are clearly out for my blood, one of them's probably gay-"

"_That_ is completely untrue." I interjected. I was ignored.

"-And I don't think I can be in any sort of relationship where I have to be around children-"

"Teenagers." Cathy was also blanked.

"-On a regular basis."

"Can't we talk about this?" Mom pleaded. I started to feel terrible.

"Goodbye." At this point, our sworn enemy, the Moriarty of Boston, the man we wanted Out Of Our Lives Forever, strode out the door, and a part of me wanted to undo the past four days when I saw how crushed Mom looked. She sank back into her chair and sighed.

"Are you alright?" I asked, genuinely concerned for once.

"I'll be fine, Beck." She didn't sound like she'd be fine. "Go and play with Cathy." _What am I, six years old?_ The two of us left the room, less jubilant than we thought we'd be.

* * *

That night, I slipped into my sister's bedroom the way I had on some of the worst nights during the war, when I felt like my life was crashing down around me and I just wanted comforting from someone in the exact same position as I was, someone who understood.

"Cath-Cath?" I whispered.

"Becky? What are you doing in here?"

"I...I feel like crap." I perched on the edge of her bed.

"Is this about Pete?" she replied. "Because I feel bad too. I know we hated him, but I think Mom really liked him."

"I know." Tears began to fall from my eyes. I hadn't cried in six months. "I wish I could fund some way of doing the right thing without screwing something else up!" I brought my knees up under my chin and curled into a ball. "Everywhere I go, I just seem to leave a trail of devastation in my wake. I've been Hurricane Beck all my life, and I'm sick of it! I'm a natural disaster! Why do I the people I love always seem to get hit? Why do I have to hurt them?"

"Becky," Cathy grabbed my shoulders and shook me slightly. "Look at me." I did as she said, and even in the darkness I could see a spark of something I couldn't quite name - a mixture of determination, frustration, and a small amount of sadness- in her brown eyes. "You are _not _a natural disaster, and you have _never _screwed anything up without fixing it afterwards. I know I said you did, but at least you tried to help, and that's a hell of a lot more than I did."

"But what if I can't fix this?"

"Who are you and what have you done with my sister?" I look up at her, confused. "The Becky Pierce-McIntyre I know is an eternal optimist, not this. Not a defeatist."

"Everyone has bad days."

"Well, you're not giving up on yourself now, not on my watch."

"I ruined your life- you've already made that clear."

"You're still my sister. Besides, I owe you one."

"What do you mean?"

"D'you remember when Dad was drafted?" I nod. "Mom was constantly worrying, and I had nightmares for weeks. But you remember what you did? You carried on almost like normal. You were still upset, but not like we were."

"Yes, I was." I mumbled. "I just didn't show it as much."

"We didn't know that at the time. Mom didn't think you knew what was happening, and I just didn't get how you could act so carefree. So we asked you about it and you said: 'I'm not really sad because he's coming home. He's not fighting and he's nowhere near the front line, so he's not gonna die. It's OK.' Then we just stared at you for a while because it was hard to believe a six-year-old girl could think about this so rationally when a grown woman couldn't. You told me you were still afraid, and you slept in my room for then next three months, but I think it's those words that kept us all sane. And now here you are, devastated, and I'm not too happy either, but I think it's my turn to be the reassuring one. You can fix this."

"You think so?" My protective bubble of optimism, the one I created during the war to keep me safe inside, seemed to have burst, and now here was Debbie Downer being...not a total downer. The world had officially gone mad.

"I _know _so."

"Good." I took a deep breath. I knew what I had to do. "I have a plan, Cathy. I don't want to have to do it, but it's the only option. I'm tired of being a destructive force. I'm tired of being a hurricane."


	11. Some People Don't Deserve Second Chances

**It's me again!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

**Disclaimer 2: The last part references another HEAIMverse fic I wrote, so if you haven't read it and you're confused, I apologize in advance.**

* * *

"We're doing _what?" _Cathy asked incredulously. I'd kept her in the dark abut my fix-it plan, but I needed her to be in on it now.

"We have to talk to Pete." The two of us were huddled in front of what some ever-so-subtle snooping through Mom's address book had revealed to be his house.

"But-" I cut her off.

"I know we hate him, but this is the right thing to do." I wished we didn't have to, but I didn't feel like I had a choice. "Maybe he's not so bad if you ignore his stupidity."

"Oh my God..." Cathy muttered to herself as I knocked on the door.

I spoke as soon as Pete opened it. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For the coffee and the death-glares and the water incident and giving you a mild case of food poisoning. We were being selfish and immature. I'm sorry." Cathy shook her head in exasperation.

"That's very sweet of you," he replied in that annoying voice, "But I'm not really interested."

"You sound like we're selling Girl Scout cookies!" I answered indignantly.

"Well, I'm not. I loved Louise, I really did, but she isn't worth enduring you two. Tell her I'm sorry." He closed the door in our faces.

"Well, I guess I've really done it this time." I remarked sadly as Cathy and I walked away. "Homewrecker Becca strikes again."

"You hate being called Becca."

"Yup. Says a lot about how I feel about myself right now."

"To be fair to you, he _was _awful."

"Vile." I agreed.

"And it was really rude of him to slam the door on us." Cathy continued. I smiled in spite of myself.

"Yeah, it was. And what did he mean, not worth it? Mom's a good person!"

"I know, right? If she was a he, Dad woulda stayed with her for sure!"

"We offered him a second chance with all three of us and he just tossed it aside! Talk about ungrateful!"

"I think the two of us have done the entire Pierce-McIntyre-Dixon family a favor." Cathy said. "Do we really want a slimeball like that hanging around?"

"No, we don't."

"Maybe we should get a medal for this."

* * *

"At least you tried." Mom signed wearily after we told her about our mission.

"You deserve better." Cathy replied.

"I know. Why can't I ever have a relationship that works?"

"I dunno." That was me, being as helpful as ever. "But, just in case you're thinking of trying to drown your sorrows, they probably know how to swim."

"Thank you, Beck." She responded in that tone of voice that meant my input was very much unwelcome. I figured I should leave. It's not really fair, though. I'm pretty sure I saw an open bottle of wine in the kitchen before we left that morning.

"It'll be OK."

* * *

The next morning, she still looked a wreck, but at least she wasn't hungover or quite so depressed. Actually, she didn't look anywhere near as bad as she had done before. Maybe she'd actually really considered what we'd said. I didn't have time to think about it properly, though. I had something to do. You see, Petebog's refusal to take the second chance we were giving him made me wonder if I had a second chance with someone. Hazel Cartwright, my best friend until I was eleven years old. She and I had been inseparable when we were younger, but then we just kinda stopped speaking. She was the one who initiated it when we were ten, around the time I became Beck. After a year, it was all over. We hardly even saw each other around, because we'd stopped looking.

I had to know why.

"Hazel."

"Becky?" she asked. I guess I must've looked slightly different. When we were friends, I was slightly neater, with shorter hair (or at least not-as-long hair). Last time we even looked at each other, my hair was always braided at Mom's insistance and I was still vaguely presentable.

That was not the girl she was confronted with today. My hair was loose and unbrushed, I looked more disheveled than I had previously, and I was staring her down.

"Beck." I corrected her.

"Sorry. It's just, it's been so long since we spoke, and-"

"I know. Why did we stop speaking?"

"Because my mom said you'd grow up to be a train wreck, and I guess I just didn't want to get dragged down with you."

"Some friend you were! " I snapped. "I am a lot of things, Hazel. I am a terrible strategist. I am an underage drinker, although to be completely fair to it was just one time when I was really upset and it will never happen again, ever. I am the worst thing that could happen to anyone's love life. But I am not a train wreck, and never will be. Because to become a real, actual train wreck I would have to go defeatist. That isn't who I am. And maybe I wouldn't be the things I just mentioned if you'd have just stood by me."

"So your crappy decisions are my fault, then?" She glared at me.

"No. I just really needed someone to help me make them less crappy. You and Cathy were my best friends. Then I only had Cathy. Then I didn't even have her, and we're only just starting to make up again. We're all going through a rough time and I figured you deserved a chance to explain yourself. But you don't." I turned to leave.

"Wait!" I stopped. "I suck at apologies, but I'm sorry I let you down. You _are _a bit of a disaster, but maybe we can fix that."

"How?" I shrugged, notb really seeing a way out.

"By trying to get back to where we were."

"Sorry, Hazel, but your spot's been filled. I have Cathy, and I have Xanthe Bennet back home, so yeah."

"What do you mean, back home?" She was confused.

"Whaddaya mean, what do you mean? Didn't you know? Dad and I moved away after the divorce." Technically, we moved before, but I wasn't going into that.

"Your parents split up? Oh my God, how did I miss that? I feel so bad for you."

"Why? I've never been better." I laughed. "Look, I know we'll never be really close friends again, but next time I'm here, we should meet up."

"I'd like that." As I left, she called after me." Just out of interest, where did you move to?"

"Maine."

"So you're really doing that travel list, then?"

"Something like that. Next stop, Korea-country." I joked, before leaving her behind.


	12. Exit Stage Left

**Disclaimer: I own nothing at all here.**

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want to stay?" Mom aasked me as I prepared to ship out.

"No. Sorry." I replied apologetically.

"Maybe you can come stay another time." Cathy suggested.

"I'd like that. And you can always visit me up in Maine!"

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Mom, eventually you _are _going to have to start being at least civil to Hawkeye. We're family now." She doesn't look convinced.

"Beck, Pierce and I will never be friends"

"I'm not saying you have to be. Just stop planning out murder schemes." As far as goodbyes go, that would have to do. I am my father's daughter. I waved and left them behind.

Not forever, though. I was going to come back. After all, I'd just got my sister back. I wasn't throwing that away. For the first time I could remember since the war, Mom was actually relaxed. I could actually tolerate being in a room with the two of them for once. And then there was Hazel. Part of me wanted to avoid her for the rest of my life, but then there was the part of me that wanted to give our friendship another shot. I didn't believe for one minute we could be friends again, of course, but we could at least be allies when I'm here. And, whilst I wasn't ever moving back here, I wasn't about to sever all my ties to Life Before.

* * *

"So how was your week?" I was asked later. I considered my reply carefully. OpIn seven days I'd made up with my Cathy, declared war on a complete stranger, destroyed another relationship, tried to fix it, and forced myself to talk to someone who stopped talking to me three years ago. How do you describe that?

"It was...eventful, I guess." I had no idea how this would play out. To be honest, I didn't really care.

Everything would be fine, whatever the outcome. Because I would _make _it be OK. That's just what I do.

* * *

**On a side note,I found this quote the other day, and figured you might enjoy it.**

**'I have become my own version of an optimist. If I can't make it through one door, I'll go through another door - or I'll make a door. Something terrific will come no matter how dark the present.'  
**

**I don't know who said it, but it's how I imagine Back's thought processes (although when I began to write HEAIM I didn't know about this line).**


	13. Epilogue

**So here it is! The epilogue. Thanks to MASHlover23, hippiechick2112, jewelledweevil, and Paulina'sHM for following, favouriting and reviewing! I know this isn't as good as the original, but thanks for actually bothering with it! I love you all. I'm now working on a M*A*S*H/Virals crossover, if you wanna check that out sometime (you don't need to have read Virals to understand it, though, I don't think). Hope to see you there!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

* * *

Since the week I spent with Mom and Cathy in April, things have changed a little. Cathy and I have kept in touch - it's not just me calling and having Mom tell me Cathy's out or sick even when she's not, or having her hang up on me immediately. She came to stay recently, and it felt almost like it used to.

Apparently Hazel asks about me sometimes. In answer, I'm doing just fine out here.

Mom was probably right when she said she was unable to get along with Hawkeye, but at least they're sort of on speaking terms now.

As far as I know, Petebog never did come back, but by now no-one cares anymore. He's out of all our lives. There's still the worry that he'll let the metaphorical cat out of the bag, but there's nothing so far. Since it doesn't concern him, I assume he's stopped digging. I hope I'm right, for all our sakes.

People can surprise you.

Sometimes you think you can rely on somebody then realize you can't, only to discover later they were there for you all along.

You can go from being best friends with someone to not speaking to them (and then discovering they didn't even notice you'd moved away).

You can think love will last forever, then be rejected at the last minute for a life with no future but at the same time no limits).

You can believe they'll never love you back, then find out they've walked away from everything they've ever known for you.

Then there are the other people who don't surprise you one little bit, bastards like Petebog who'll stay slimy and inconsiderate no matter what you do.

You learn to avoid people like that once you've sussed out who they are. I like to think I've gotten better at that since the whole Petebog fiasco.

Sometimes you can surprise yourself.

You can think you want something, then when you get it realize maybe the grass wasn't so green on the other side after all.

You can hate people, yet somehow find it in you to try and move past it.

You can be ashamed of the person you've become, then figure out there's no one you'd rather be.

I will probably always be Homewrecker Becca, and I hate what this could mean for my future, and I _really _hate the name Becca, but there are times this destructive tendency has come in useful. If I wasn't the hurricane I am, my life would have gone in a completely different direction. None of the things that have happened to me would have happened. Maybe I should start up a business and start charging people for my services. Rebecca Pierce-McIntyre, Homewrecker and Matchmaker.

Who knows, maybe I'll have an occasion to use the nicer part of my skill set someday soon.

A couple weeks ago, Cathy and I were dragged along to the annual unit reunion. I like going, but I don't like Erin. She follows us around, and then her equally annoying parents will leave her with us and we'll be stuck with her. Then we'll be seen as a free babysitter's service (although in 1957 we decided to request payment) and be left in charge of everyone else's Mashlets. It's a downward spiral we try to avoid whenever we can.

It was whilst we were trying to make sure we weren't spotted that it happened. As a general rule, Charles Emerson Winchester III and Maxwell Q. Klinger do not get along, but on this particular day, something was different.

The cogs started turning in my brain.

"Cathy..."

"No."

Maybe next time, I'll have better luck.

_Beck Pierce-McIntyre, August 12th, 1949._

* * *

**The OATIB playlist!**

**Welcome Home - _Radical Face_**

**Carry On - _fun._**

**Some Nights_ - fun._**

**King Of Anything - _Sara Bareilles_**

**Last Hope - _Paramore_**

**Embers - _Owl City_**

**This Isn't The End - _Owl City_**

**(In case you're wondering, I will not be persuing the Chaxie angle.)**


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